Wedding Chocolate. Adrianne Byrd

offered me security. You’ve done everything to give me hope that I would be Mrs. Derrick Knight one day. My father is a Baptist minister. I’m supposed to get married.”

      Derrick wished with all his might that he could love her the way she wanted to be loved, but he couldn’t make his heart do it. He couldn’t lie to her or to himself.

      Wailing, Meghan kicked over the coffee table, and even sideswiped a lamp on an end table as she stormed across the living room. “I wasted three years waiting for you!”

      “I don’t consider them a waste,” he offered as he climbed to his feet, only to dodge a flying vase aimed at his head.

      “I just bet you don’t! I’ve done everything a good girlfriend should do. I’ve been faithful—”

      “I never asked you to do that,” he said. “We agreed that this was an open relationship.”

      Meghan’s eyes widened. “You’ve been sleeping with other women?”

      “We agreed—”

      “Asshole!”

      Another vase soared through the air. When it crashed inches from his head, a few shattered pieces ricocheted into his eyes. “Ow! Meghan you’re being unreasonable.”

      “You’re damn right I am.” She snatched her purse and coat from the foyer’s closet and then turned to give him a final glare. “I never want to see you again. I hate you!”

      Derrick watched as she snatched open the front door and flinched when she slammed it behind her. It rattled in her wake. “Well that went well,” he mumbled under his breath.

      He looked around the high-rise apartment and realized he should be grateful she didn’t cause more damage. When he broke up with Mya, he had to hire a decorator to repair the place.

      Sighing, he walked to the center of the room and picked up his award. A corner of the plaque had broken off, but it was nothing he couldn’t fix. After another glance around, he promised himself he would clean the mess up in the morning before his flight to Washington. Right now, he just wanted to climb into bed and put this whole fiasco behind him.

      In his bedroom, Derrick peeled out of his clothes, showered, and then slid between the bed’s satin sheets. After two hours, he was far from dreamland. All he could see was Meghan’s angry tears.

      And Mya’s.

      And Genie’s.

      And Lana’s.

      Exasperated, he flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. They had all loved him. They had all expected a wedding ring. But he wasn’t in love with any of them.

      “Maybe it’s time to face the truth,” he said into the darkness. “Love just isn’t in the cards for me.”

Chapter 2

      Isabella didn’t float home on a cloud and she doubted she would dream of any happily-ever-after with her newly minted fiancé. Instead, Isabella wondered about the mess she got herself into.

      “What do you mean, he proposed? You were supposed to break up with him,” Keri thundered into the phone.

      “I know. I know. But what was I supposed to do? He had invited our parents to dinner. Everyone was sitting there staring at me.”

      “You were supposed to say no.”

      Isabella sighed, and slumped onto the bed. She heard a loud rip, jumped up and ran to the mirror to see a long tear in the back of her dress. “Just great!”

      “What happened?”

      “Uhm. How soon do you need your green dress back?”

      “Izzy, you said you’d be careful!”

      “I know. I know.” She sighed. Why was she always such a klutz? “It’s just a small rip,” she lied. “I can fix it.” Balancing the phone between her shoulder and chin, Isabella struggled to reach the back zipper. When it jammed halfway down, she opted to pull the silk dress over her head, which caused her to lose her precious balance, drop the phone and crush her toes.

      “Ow. Ow, ow.” She hopped around the room blind on her good foot. Once the throbbing eased, she shouted down to the floor, “Just a sec, Keri.” Isabella wiggled and pulled and after a few long seconds managed to work her way out of the dress. “I’m back.”

      “What happened?”

      “Nothing. I dropped the phone.” She sat on the edge of the bed and reached to take off her shoes when one heel came off in her hand. “Uhm, about your shoes...”

      “Izzy!”

      “I’m sorry. I just...I’m just sorry.”

      “Forget the shoes. What are you going to do about Randall?”

      Isabella checked behind her before easing back onto the bed.

      “Isabella, are you there? Hello.”

      “I’m still here,” she mumbled.

      “So what are you going to do? I mean, you’re not going to go through with it, are you? You’re not in love with Randall.”

      “I could learn to love him.”

      “What?” Keri shrieked. “Please say you’re joking.”

      Isabella sighed. Was she joking? Really, what was wrong with falling in love after marriage? Does true love really exist? Hell, she didn’t know anymore.

      “Izzy?”

      “I don’t know, Keri. Randall is a good catch and it’s not like there’s a line of men banging down my front door. There never has been.”

      “Don’t say it like that. What about that guy you met at the library?”

      “You mean, Arthur? That was years ago. We went out one time and all he talked about was reaching some ridiculous level in some video game. Besides he had too many no’s.”

      “He had too many what?”

      “No’s. No job, no car, no money and most importantly no personality. Consequently, he got married last year.”

      “You’re joking.”

      “I wish I was. I was hard up enough a few months ago and called him again.” Isabella grabbed a toss pillow, covered her head and proceeded to scream.

      “Izzy? Izzy?” Keri shouted.

      When her brief moment of anxiety and frustration passed, Isabella removed the pillow from her head and placed the phone back against her ear. “It’s all right. I’m back.”

      “Okay. So Arthur is off the list. No big deal.”

      “No big deal? What does it say about the world when he can get hitched and I, an intelligent woman with a damn good job...and somewhat decent looking can only get asked out once every three years?”

      “Izzy, stop putting yourself down. You’re a pretty girl. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

      How come she only heard those words from her parents and friends? Acidic tears burned the backs of Isabella’s eyes. The truth was the truth. She wasn’t beautiful and she should count herself lucky Randall Jarrett ever gave her the time of day. “Randall would make a good husband.”

      “So you’re just going to settle?”

      “I didn’t say I was settling.”

      “That is exactly what you’re saying. You’re letting Randall and your parents run your life.”

      “No, I’m not.”

      “Oh, please. Your parents chose your college, law school, your condo, half of your friends and now they